Rice Ball
by DiagnosisIntrovert
Summary: Rochu Soulmate FBI agent AU. Yao Wang has watched Ivan for all of his life, taking comfort in the worfds that pain his arm. Ivan Braginsky writes romance novels, lookign foward to the day he will be able to hold the one he loves in his arms.


The agent stared sleepily at the screen. If only for a little bit longer he could stay awake and watch his charge's activity, then he would. He himself had a trackcing agent assgned to him, himself. He often searched up disturbing things and really, he didn't want another person to see his health that was often forgotten about reflected into his activity. Often he wondered about the words on his arm, _\- it'll be okay rice ball -_ but simpluy could not bring himself to walk outside of the route that took him to his work and his house fro fear of meeting them again.

On the other side of the screen, the Russian continued to type away at his new romance story. Despite the rumors that there was a agent watching him somehow, he could not bring himself to care less; if the agent was wathcing him type away at soulmates troubled with what was the right thing to do was (seperate or continue), then so be it. He really did hope that his agent (why was the agent his? He owned no agent, no privacy, perhaps he was the agaent's) liked theses types of stories, as this one would be done soon. He wathed the bright screen turn black and closed the scratched lid; his agent needed to sleep and so did he.

In the sdplit storey house only an hour after the computer turned off and he was free to go, Yao hides himself in the corner of the kitchen, staring down at the plate of food infront of him. He did this every evening, staring and waiting until he thought enough time had passed and he was allowed to eat. Even though he was not with his family anymore, the strict routines that had been implimented into him remained, forcing him to succumb to the demons of his past night after night; one of these paticular monstrosites was asking before he ate, sometimes if theyw ere feeling generous he'd be able to eat right away, other times he would have to wait for an hour and sometimes not at all. Like tonight.

The writer signed his name at the bottom of the page, _Ivan_ , was written in perfect script, the only one thing in his life that was a constant. His job was every where, let's not talk about family relations and the stability of his skills as a pianist were unknown to all except those that walked by. He always saw the words on his wrist - _I'm so sorry_ \- and wondered what they'd done. Surely, he thought the'd be alble to forgive them, he'd love them the way that he had and more; they deserved that much, being his soulmate.

Yao glanced over his records from the day, the computer history of his charge laid bare infront of him, everything he saw repeated and edited and continued onwards and onwards. His work was simple, yes, but the attention that he applied to it to make sure nothing changed and the slightest altering in sites visted and time on cat videos noticed was exhaustong; he often thought that he could apply what little brains he had to findingout whose's online world he monitred, but that for him was too much work and getting it wrong would make the brunt of faliure worse.

Watching the pie steam and tuning out his sisters' joking, Ivan turned his mind to the next day's issues, less time on moblie and computer, more playing piano and driving sibings to job interviews and fabric shops. He was untimaltily looking foward to quality time with himself to contemplate his own issues and the escape from the prying questions of Toris with his shaking hand that accentuated virbrato.

Meanwhile, Yao curled his body up near his own computer watching his charge through the camera on his devices. He could always clal his charge if he thought things were getting out of hand or dangerous, but he never saw the need to, truly. The green button sat promenitly at the bottom of his screen and screamed at him to never press it; he never had. But on this occasion, the sleepiness and his longing for completion combined and he found himself tapping that vibrant green button.

When Ivan's screen changed to show a sleepy man staring in shock at him, he couldn't say a word, the man that had spent his life elgally spying on him spoke words he'd been waiting ot hear for all eternity, "I'm so sorry!" The agent then broke down in tears.

 _'I'm so sorry!'_

"It'll be okay rice ball." The man watching him, blinked before bursting into tears again, overwhelmed by emotions. "Would you like to meet tomorrow for kunch?"

The agent shook his head franticaly, tears hitting the screen. "HOw about now?"

This time, the man nodded vigiorusly, a small smile peaking through the waterfall of tears. Ivan pulled on his coat and ran to the door, his only answer to his sisters, "My soulmate"

He would love his soulmate forever. Now, clinging to a ball of dirt didn't seem so bad.


End file.
